


Car Games

by Barb G (troutkitty)



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-09-30
Updated: 1999-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-24 15:20:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/264984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troutkitty/pseuds/Barb%20G
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder, Krycek, and a car.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Car Games

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when old doctors tell young slash writers how much moisture is in the breath with a *really* cute intern standing over them. It just gives them ideas. The actual boys, sadly, do not belong to the above-mentioned slash writer, but if they did, she'd love them and hold them and squeeze them and name them both George.

The door opened and closed and Krycek passed me a cup of coffee. I startled, almost spilling the Styrofoam container. Krycek spoke as if I had been expecting him. "Awfully late for you to be out here in this neighborhood, Mulder, who are we looking for?" he asked.

"You," I said, maliciously tearing off the tab of the lid. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"If you have ask, then what are you doing down here looking for me?" Krycek asked. Oh, shit. He was feeling silly tonight. His eyes shone in the light of the dash and I responded to it in the old way. I punched him.

Goddamn it. Fucking false arm. I rubbed my knuckles against my thigh and Krycek only smiled at me. "You rang?" he asked, drawing the words out like Lurch.

"I was told you'd be down here tonight looking for something," I muttered, starting the car.

"I don't know, Mulder. Pretty rough neighborhood. It'd have to be something pretty important for me to be down here," he theatrically looked around the car. "I would have at least locked the doors."

I glared at him. "I had."

"Then I'd get the Bureau to buy you a better car." He leaned into my space for a moment. "I hear they can afford it," he whispered.

"Krycek, what were you doing down here?" I demanded. I was losing my patience again. I started the car but didn't drive away. Part of me wanted to throw Alex out, the rest of me wanted to strip him down and tie him to a tree first. I was sick of the games. Just having him in the car made my slacks very uncomfortable and I was glad I had chosen to wear the trench coat. They do cover a number of sins. All of them I wanted to do to Alex once we got home.

"Establishing my alibi," Krycek said with a perfectly innocent face. "Note the time if you will. I might need you as a character witness."

"Krycek!" I snapped, turning off the engine. "Get out."

"You don't mean that."

"I said, get out," I said, reaching across him to open his door. Krycek pressed down on my opposite shoulder and suddenly I was facing his groin.

"You always find the most interesting ways to position yourself there," Krycek said. "Be a good boy and don't bite." His voice dropped down to a lower octave and it made me smile. He was having the same problems I was with his own clothing.

I smiled as my anger channeled to my vindictive nature that only showed up when Krycek was in the area. I obeyed Krycek, to the exact letter.

I took a deep breath and pressed my mouth against the zipper of his jeans. I could feel his flesh jump at the touch of my mouth, and realized that this might hurt him, but he had to be punished for wearing such tight articles of clothing. I breathed out, slowly, feeling the heat from my breath spread over the denim. Krycek wasn't wearing any underwear. What the hell was he doing down here?

"Oh, yeah," Krycek groaned, obviously still thinking he was going to enjoy this, and stretched himself out as much as he could. His thighs spread lewdly and he tried to take my head in his hand.

I snapped my head back. "No," I said. We both had our rules and we both obeyed them, to varying degrees of success. Krycek, surprisingly, was better at it than I was. He tucked his hand under his thigh and angled his hips just a little more.

"Then what are you waiting for?" he asked.

I grinned and went back to the task at hand. I touched with my chin the moist spot I had made. It had cooled down some, and I blew more air across it. Krycek shifted in his seat as the chill got to him. I let him squirm for a moment and then I was back, mouth over the width of his cock, nipping at it, drawing my tongue across it, feeling it jerk and expand under the black denim. Up and down the length, back to his head. I nipped it several times, tugging at the clothing that covered it with my teeth. I heard Krycek's head hit the back of his seat as his entire arm clenched.

"Mulder, I am going to fuck your ear with my gun before pulling the trigger if you I don't get on with this," he promised. The poor man sounded like he was in honest pain. I ran my tongue over the head of his cock and tasted the first of the pre-cum leaking through. I sucked at it greedily, causing him to groan again. Krycek had just washed these jeans and the taste of the detergent came with it. I licked my lips and pulled back a second.

"My ear, Krycek?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "With all my orifices, that's the only one you can come up with?"

"It's the only one I can be sure you won't enjoy," Krycek growled. He was starting to pant now. I went back to raking my teeth against the head of his cock, but this time I deliberately caught the slightest amount of skin between my teeth.

Krycek jumped so hard my mouth snapped shut. "Jesus!" Krycek swore. "Fuck you, Mulder. Or fuck me, just do something!"

I hadn't heard him whine since we were partners. There was something so sweet about it--not that I let it sway me. I positioned my hand, convinced he wasn't looking at what I was doing, and then went back to covering his cock delicately with warm moist air. Gradually he lowered his hips, which lined his opening directly onto my thumb. Most of his weight was on my hand, as I circled my thumb insistently against him. He wanted to move away from the pressure, but I felt the response in his cock. He began to grind himself against me.

"Mulder, please. I'll be good. I'll be great. I'll do anything you say. Please, Mulder. I'll even wear what you have hidden in your bottom drawer. Please, Mulder...just...oh, Christ..." Krycek begged. He began to move his hips in counter measure to the rhythm of my thumb.

I had tortured him enough. I replaced my mouth with my other hand and begun to rub him furiously while I extended my fingers and massaged the area behind his balls. The response was immediate. Krycek thrust his hips again, but I was ready for him this time. I followed him up, keeping the constant pressure. After a few jerks Krycek threw his head back. He moved his mouth, screaming without making a sound as his entire body tried to make the most of his last couple thrusts. He sank back to the seat gradually and I removed my hands.

Krycek curled up, hugging himself for a long moment and then started to breathe again. I watched his lungs fill with air as they moved his shoulders up and down, and kissed the back of his neck before returning to my side of the car.

Eventually he straightened up, but his eyes were still sort of glassy. "Thank you," he finally said. He shifted in his seat, not the least bit angry that the front of his jeans could probably have been wrung out to dry. He went to grab the door handle.

I stopped him. He didn't feel my hand on him, obviously, and when he tried to pull away he was brought up short. "What?" he asked, glancing down to my hand.

"Oh, no, you don't. You have a date with my bottom drawer," I said.

His face paled.

The end.

Barb + Medication = blatant silliness. <giggle> oh, well. At least it was good for Krycek.

 

* * *

 

Alternate title: What the heck's in that bottom drawer, anyway?  
E-mail address for feedback: [ba3333@kornet.net](mailto:ba3333@kornet.net)  
If Mulder and Krycek were mine I would have no time to actually write and would probably starve to death before remembering to eat, so there you go. CC probably has someone to take care of that for him.  
Spoilers: Kinda sorta maybe. For all the ickies Krycek has seen. Nothing major.  
Harmless fluff, but I am feeling a little bit better. The darkness and pain shall continue once I'm healthy again. :) Funny how that works.  
Oh. Mr. Dress-up is the Canadian equivalent to Mr. Rogers. He had a tickle trunk where he kept the costumes and a little boy and a dog in the treehouse out back. I loved that show when I was a kid. :)

* * *

Car Games II: Mr. Dress-up  
Barb Geiger

Okay. I've seen a lot of sick things in my life.

Most of them have been within the past five years or so. The first time a man melted into green ooze bothered me. Vomiting that black oil turned me off food for a long, long time. The aliens who sewed their faces shut. Could have done with out seeing that the first time. Oh, yeah, cutting off my fucking arm. But this...this topped them all. Well...except for maybe the arm thing.

The truth of the matter was...I didn't *know* what was in that fucking bottom drawer. Don't laugh at me! Before we became lovers it never interested me what Mulder kept behind that diddly little lock. I figured it couldn't have been that important since a nail file could open the damn thing, and then afterwards...hey, I respected the man's privacy. I figured since I knew everything about him and he knew almost nothing about me, this evened things out a bit.

Apparently I didn't know anything. "I'm not wearing this!" I shouted through the bathroom door.

"You promised, Krycek. Don't make me come in there and kick your ass."

Mulder's voice made me jump. It came from right outside the bathroom door. "I'd prefer an ass kicking!"

"I know you would. Everything, Krycek, including the hair."

"You are one sick fuck, Mulder. You know that, don't you?"

"I don't hear you getting changed," Mulder said, completely ignoring my question.

"What else do your spidy senses tell you I'm doing?" I called, holding up my finger.

"Not in this lifetime, Krycek. Not unless you do this."

"Damn it, Mulder! At least leave me with some self-respect," I tried for the last time.

"I would, but you've never had any to begin with."

How can you argue with a man who knows you that well? I glanced up to the mirror and winced as I noticed I hadn't had it cut in a while. It was almost long enough to do this. "I will get you back for this," I vowed, shrugging off my jacket.

I heard him laugh on the other side of the door...but it was decidedly tinged with fear. It had better be, I decided as I reached for the hair gel.

It itched all over. I had vowed never to wear one of these again. I opened the door and saw the look of delight on Mulder's face and swore as I realized I left both guns with my real clothing. I figured there was no use in tempting myself.

Mulder walked around me grinning from ear to ear. "There's just one thing missing," he decided, coming to a halt in front of me again.

"What?" I demanded, giving him the death-ray glare. It didn't work. Mulder remained upright, living and breathing.

"The look of pure, unadulterated admiration. Remember how much respect you had for me back then?"

I glanced to the mirror he had over his bureau. Cheap suit, ugly-as-all-hell tie, hair slicked back...I think I had the sickest lover in the world. "It was an act, Mulder," I growled.

"That's Agent Mulder to you, Krycek."

I looked up and beamed at him my most dazzling innocent smile to date. "Great. Get on your red speedos and we'll have ourselves a party," I said, adding a slight twang to my voice.

"Oh, we're not doing this here," Mulder said, grabbing his trench coat.

I stared at him. "Huh?" I asked, stupidly. "You have some fantasy about a cheap motel? Do you want to get sworn at by taxi-cab drivers and pretend we're in New York?"

"No, I have some fantasy about you over my desk, squirming."

I put my foot down. Literally, over his toes and as hard as possible. He wasn't wearing any shoes, I was. "Mulder, you can't take me into the fucking F.B.I. building. What are you trying to do, me get arrested or just killed? I can't! I won't! You can't ask me to do this."

Mulder swore in pain, but his determination won out. It usually did. He grabbed my wrist and pulled. "What are you so worried about, Krycek? No one will recognize you."

I glanced at the mirror on the way out the door. He did have a point.

  
"You...do realize how much you owe me, Mulder?" I asked in the car on the drive down. "I mean...whatever I want to play next, you had better be ready, willing and perfectly able or I am going to be very upset."

"Agent Mulder."

"What?"

"I want you to call me Agent Mulder," he said, grinning. If he tried to touch my knee I would have gnawed off his hand and hit him with it. "What are you complaining about, Krycek. You begged me to wear this."

"There were extenuating circumstances and I didn't know what 'this' was, Agent Mulder," I snapped.

"You didn't?" Mulder asked, trying to glance at me and drive as fast as he was on the deserted streets.

"Do you think I'd still be coming around your place if I did?" I demanded.

Mulder nodded without answering me. "My mistake. I thought that lock on the drawer would be an invitation for you to open it. I thought you knew what you were getting yourself into."

"You're right, your mistake. Well, if that's the case, we can just turn around and--" I tried to demonstrate the direction change with my fingers.

"Not so fast," Mulder said, putting a hand over my upper thigh. "A deal's a deal."

I left the hand attached and chalked it up as one more huge favour.

  
The guard at the security desk hardly glanced at me other than to make a cryptic remark about how young they were recruiting these days. Mulder laughed and agreed and made dragging me off look perfectly natural. Sometimes I really respected the man. I'd still have to kill him. We took the elevator down to his office.

He unlocked the door and motioned me inside. I decided to get this over as quickly as possible so I took a deep breath. "Well, hi, Agent Mulder, my, this is a swell office you got here. What big filing cabinets! Is this your desk...wow, it's a nice desk," I said, and paused for a breath. "Innocent enough or do you want more?" I asked. I picked up his name thing and tapped it against my chin.

Mulder slammed me down over his desk and kicked my legs apart. I fell with a grunt and lay pinned with his hand over the back of my neck. "Don't move," he hissed.

I didn't know exactly were I was supposed to go. "Agent Mulder, is this move in the books?" I asked, letting a little concern creep into my voice. "Agent Mulder, did you know that you just pulled my pants down? Hey! Watch where you're sticking that tongue!" I said.

It was all I could do to stop myself from grinding against him. He flicked me again, not so much entering me as swirling the edges. Then I figured...fuck it. If he truly wanted innocence he'd be as far away from me as possible. I push myself back against him, and he began washing my testicles from the back. It tickled, but he kept his tongue soft and made the licks gentle.

I started to breathe heavily. He tightened his tongue and licked his way back to my ass before holding my cheeks out. I winced slightly as his fingers dug into my flesh, but then his tongue worked its way into my body and I stopped caring. He was hot and slippery against me, catching me one way and then another until I had to grip onto the table to stay up. I felt the shoots of pleasure running up and down the back of my thighs all the way to my knees.

I had to bite into the cheap material of my sleeve to keep from begging again. I had no intentions of making this any worse for myself, and I learned the hard way that I couldn't control what came out of me when this man used his mouth. Mulder doubled his efforts, slashing me with his tongue, working over my touch-spots and then settled down to a simple tongue fucking. It felt great, but I wasn't going to say anything.

"What's wrong, Krycek? No promises about the shoe-boxes in my closet?" Mulder asked, replacing his tongue with a moistened finger.

The shoe-boxes? The next time Mulder left for work I was going to do some research and find out what else I might be doing Thursday evenings for a while. I shook my head, not wanting to even say that much.

"Cat got your tongue?" Mulder whispered, moving over me.

My hand snaked out, grabbed the pen that was at eye level, and wrote on a piece of fax paper, 'Fuck me!'

"What was that, Krycek?" Mulder asked maliciously in my ear.

I underlined it twice and added an extra exclamation point.

He laughed and pulled away to adjust his clothing.

The feeling of his oiled cock against my already slick opening made me gasp once and then I sighed as he slid inside me. I was no virgin, but had enough muscle control to give Mulder as much of a ride as he wanted. He rested against me, chest against my cheap suit, and kissed my hair. "Jerk off for me, Krycek. I want to see your cum running down my desk."

I was as sick as he was. It was difficult to prop myself up with my false arm while using my hand, but not impossible, and Mulder was kind enough to keep most of his weight to himself. He caught me on the perfect spot, and the sound I made hurt my throat. He kissed the back of my neck, but then straightened up. He was too close for that much tactile stimulation.

So was I. My hand was furious against my cock. His hands squeezed my hips in time with his thrusts and although I knew it wasn´t possible, he seemed to fill me more each time he pushed against me.

He came first, "Christ, Krycek, just like that. Oh, Fuck. Oh..." he managed, and then tightened his hands against my hips, clawing me for the first time. The sudden pain was too much and I slammed forward, helplessly emptying myself onto the fake wooden paneling of Mulder's desk.

He slowly moved away and grabbed a couple tissues to wipe me off with. I didn't want the horrible material against me again, but it was either that or walk naked to the car. He glanced at the desk and I saw him smile.

"What about you, Krycek? Any bottom drawers in your life?" he asked, resting his forearms on my shoulders.

"Warehouses of them, Mulder," I said.

It was his turn to look a little whiter.


End file.
